His Breakdown
by Super Vanilla Bear
Summary: Dr. Cox walks in on a tender moment. One-shot. No slash.


**Author's Note: **I do not own the television show _Scrubs_ or any of its characters.

Happy late birthday to Mr. Zach Braff, better known to you wonderful people as J.D. in _Scrubs_. Zach just turned thirty-six on April 6th, so be sure to wish him a very happy late birthday for being the wonderful actor, writer, and director that he is. Also, watch his movies_ Garden State _and _The Last Kiss_. I believe (actually I know) you will enjoy them. He is very believable in both films and it's hard not to love his performances. I highly recommend them to anyone who loves movies in general, or maybe just even Zach. Anyway, on with the story...

This one-shot is set post-season nine, after the series ends.

* * *

><p><em>His Breakdown<em>

There are cupcakes at their funeral. Are we actually expected to eat baked goods before someone gives a eulogy to people close to you? Do they want us to be happy on a day like this? Because that's what it seems like to me. The priest walks around smiling, like nothing has even happened, his fat cheeks puffing out as soon as he sees all of the refreshments. And some wonder why I don't go to church. This, my dear friends, is why. The fathers are too happy, even if death has occurred, the church itself tries to rip you off by making you give them "spare change", and then God just _has_ to kill someone so important to me that she's the part of reason why I can still get up everyday and go to that hell hole of a hospital.

Newbie's been clinging on to his kid during this whole time, stroking his brown hair and rubbing his back for comfort. Like the newborn even knows what in the hell is going on. His kid's only four months old; he shouldn't have to go through anything like this for quite some time. Newbie hasn't stopped crying, either, which is why his wife Barbie hasn't left his side, even though she's blubbering just as much as he is. They wrap their arms around each other and their baby, forming a tearful circle at the funeral home.

I can't stand to see so many people upset. Everyone is either wailing or dabbing at their eyes with tissues, which is what is making this hell for me. I just lean against the wall, hands shoved deep in my pants pockets, watching the people around me crumble and hit rock bottom. Before I know it, the beast is standing next to me, winded and breathing heavily after chasing Jack and Jenny around for several minutes. They settle down on a couch, my eight year old pulling at my four year old's hair and shrieking in laughter as she starts to whine.

"You okay?" She whispers as she grabs my hand.

I nod, gulping at the same time. "Yeah."

Just then, the preacher announces that it's time for the real funeral to start. What's been going on for the past few hours is what's being referred to as the "pre-funeral", where family and friends gather to mourn one last time together. We all shuffle into the chapel, us and Newbie and his family, and other people I've only seen once or twice before taking up the front two rows. Barbie hands Newbie a tissue and he takes it, blowing his stuffy nose loudly into it. Leave it to him to be so gross on the one of the worst days of his life.

The air in the room grows thick as the sobbing continues, most of which is going on right in front of me. "We have gathered here today not to mourn the passing of this family, but to celebrate their lives." Wow, that's the bullshit statement of the day. Why the hell would he say that in front of tons of crying relatives and friends?

The rest of the service seems to drag out and I have to keep swallowing the lumps in my throat, which ends up making me a little nauseous in the process. When the father, Roscoe A. Potter, whom I named in my head, finally stops talking, we all get up to say our final goodbyes. This is really the last time any of us will ever see them again.

Words can't describe how much I would take the fight she and I had earlier the day before the car accident back. If I could change anything in the world right now, that would be it. That's the last time I spoke to her, the last time I saw her alive. It's been eating away at me for the past five days while the funeral was being planned.

This is it.

I bite my lip as I reach into her coffin, hugging her stiff body for a split second before I stand back up, wiping my eyes. Dammit, I'm just like everyone else in this dump. Hold it together, Perry. There's not much longer left. I sigh as I just pass their kids' coffins and then his coffin, not wanting to stop for even a second. But, once I'm out of the room, I turn around to see Barbie and Newbie literally falling apart in front of my eyes, but mostly Newbie. I can tell he's shaking, even though he's kind of far away, as he hugs his best friends one last time. He holds them both for a long time, not wanting to let go until Barbie has to drag him away, unable to watch him or look at the dead family any longer. They both come out sobbing.

The final words outside the funeral home are brief and to-the-point due to the vicious winter weather. Wind blows the flowers on to the ground and snow starts to fall all around us. Jenny cuddles her face into my neck and I can see Jack and Jordan snuggling together out of the corner of my eye. I release a breath I didn't know I was holding, just listening to the unsettled silence after everyone begins to leave. Us and the Newbarb (Newbie and Barbie combined) family are the last people left. Barbie has her son cradled in her arms, protecting him as much as she can from the drops of dandruff falling around us.

"Perry, we need to leave. The kids are freezing," Jordan says.

I nod. "Okay." Dammit, why must my voice be so freaking small right now? I'm not supposed to be affected by this. I'm never affected by anything like this. When my parents died, I danced on their graves. When Ben died, I barely cried. And now they're gone, more specifically she's gone, and I can't think about anything else right now.

"J.D.," I hear Barbie coax as we walk to our car that's only a few feet away. "We have to go."

As we get inside the vehicle, I see Newbie drop to his knees, collapsing on to the ground hard. Barbie carefully bends down next to him, holding him as close as she can. I have to get out of here now before something else happens. I can't watch this crap anymore. I drive away from there as fast I as I can, breaking the speed limit in the process.

* * *

><p><em>Three days later.<em>

"There is no way in hell I'm going to your mother's house for Christmas dinner! For one, your mother is like the devil's incarnate and I'm pretty sure if I get within one hundred feet of her, she'll eat my soul, puke it back up, and then feed it to her dogs. Second, I don't celebrate Christmas. It's a completely useless holiday filled with old ladies caroling around the neighborhood in order to get an orgasm that doesn't rely on double-A batteries and jolly fat men burglarizing houses. Now, you tell me, would you really want a fat man wearing a red suit climbing down your chimney? Plus, I'll be damned if I miss out on my only day where I sit at home and drink scotch 'til I can't stand up because you and the kids go out and do...something."

Jordan moans and pushes her hair back. "Listen, Per, I don't care about whatever the hell it is you just rambled on about. The fact that you just wasted five minutes of my life with that terribly boring speech just compels me to take you over there even more. So, guess what you're going to be doing in a few days?" Oh, that evil witch-bitch.

"All of my hopes are going to killing myself. Oh please, dear Lord, let me be right," I say as I cross my fingers. God, I'm asking you to do me this favor here: Please do nawt make me have to go to that thing's house. I mean, why should I have to go sit in a house that smells like stale milk and listen to an old woman talk about the "good ole days"?

She sighs and I see her switch from "bitch mode" to "reasonably nice mode". "Look, I just think it would be good for us to get out of here for a few days. You can get someone to cover for you and then we could just forget all of the crap that's happened this past week. Just...think about it, okay? These aren't definite plans yet."

I shake my head. "Don't ya get it? There is no _forgetting_, Jordan. Do you expect me to wake up one day and not remember what happened to them?" I say as quietly as I can so no one else around us at the nurse's station could hear me. I wish this whole thing were that simple, but there is no easy way out of this one.

Jordan nods, looking away from me. I pull her into a hug, sensing that she could use the comfort. She didn't know either of them very well, but I think everyone being so upset these past few days has made her bitch cells die down a bit, which I'm thankful for. I'm thankful for her understanding and how she's actually being a human for once.

Since when am _I_human?

Dammit, their deaths are making me soft. Why the hell did this have to happen to me?

"I'll see you when I get home," I tell her as she lets go.

She nods again, kissing me on the lips one last time before she leaves. "I love you," she whispers.

"I love you too."

And then she's gone.

I fill out the last of my charts, heading down to the on-call room to get some rest. I haven't been sleeping well since this whole situation occurred, which has started to take a toll on me lately. For example, Jordan's morning breath smelled like vomit mixed with rotten eggs today and I couldn't even come up with a sarcastic comment. Life sucks when I, of _all_ people, can't come up with something sarcastic to say. Hell, I invented sarcasm and, somehow, everyone else just found a way to copy off of my genius and use it as their own.

As soon as I open the door to the on-call room, I hear an unpleasant sound, a sound I've been hearing so much these past few days that I might just kill whoever's making it. Sniffling fills the small area, followed by more sobbing. I turn on the lights to see Newbie with his face buried into a pillow, holding on to it as tightly as he can.

"Dear God, Newbie. Did Barbie forget to order your new fedora or...something?"

I know it isn't a very good insult, but I'm too tired to think of anything better.

The kid jumps up and, as soon as he sees me, he starts wiping the water works away. His eyes tear up more while he's doing it and he eventually stops, knowing that it's not doing him any justice. His face is red and his eyes are puffy, which leads me to believe that this isn't him just crying. It's him pouring his soul out. Oh, good God, I've been spending far too much time around the kid. Newbie just sits there, staring at the floor, still sniffling every now and then. I can tell he's uncomfortable by how tense his shoulders are.

"They...They shouldn't have...d-died," he says after minutes of uneasy quietness. Please do nawt tell me he's about ready to vent to me. Doesn't he know that I'm dead inside? After all the years of humiliation, he should know that I don't care about anything that he has to say. What makes now any different than before?

I roll my eyes, rubbing the hands down the side of my face, giving in. "Why's that, Newbie?"

"What'dya mean?" He asks after he hiccups.

I shrug. "What if it was their time?"

He looks up at me, tears welling in his eyes once again. "How can you say that? Did you want them dead?"

"Of course not, jackass. If I've learned anything as a doctor it's that even the best people have to die. You just have to accept it and move on." It's funny how I say this now after I just made Jordan feel bad about me _nawt_ being able to forget about it. Maybe I should follow my own advice. Nah...who cares.

"What the hell are you talking about?" He asks. "That's my _best_ friend you're talking about. That's one of _your _best friends. That's Elliot's _best _friend. How can you expect me to accept it? Act like they were never here? I can't...I-I won't do that." Why is he acting like this? I've never seen him this worked up before. Sure, I've seen his hissy fits about not being able to go on the Sacred Heart ski trip when he had broken his ankle and his episode about how his favorite jeans wouldn't fit him anymore, but those were nothing like this.

I shake my head. "Okay, that came out wrong. What I'm saying is that you can't let this bother you as much as it is."

His eyes tear up even more and his hands tremble. "Wha-What do you want me to do?" Newbie whispers.

Oh, come on! Why can't I ever catch a break in this place? I hate being sentimental or opening up or any of the other psycho bullshit that people are so hung up on. I just wish I hadn't walked in here on this. I know he's hurting, but, hell, the kid knows that I am the ve-he-he-hery last person he needs to talk to about this.

I take in a breath before answering. "Just stop thinking about how they're...dead. All of the wishing or whatever the hell that's going on in that candy bracelet loving mind of yours isn't going to bring them back. Think about the good times, don't sit in here and feel sorry for yourself all day. I mean, you're used to this."

Newbie's eyes widen. "I'm _used_ to this? I'm not used to being woken up at two in the morning with a phone call explaining that my best friend and his family died! I'm not used to go going to their funerals and crying so much that I'm sure I've just about dehydrated myself. I'm not used to-"

"Shut up! Do you think you're the only one who has ever lost someone important to you? Now, listen here, you little piss ant, and listen good: You _need_ to stop letting this affect you like this. One day, you'll wake up and be depressed more than usual and you _will_ hurdle yourself off the side of this building. And I _will nawt_ let that happen to you."

Oh my God, he almost just blew a fuse. I'm sweating now, my jaw clenched so tightly that it hurts, my fists turning white because I haven't stopped squeezing them. He can't pull that "I'm feeling sorry for myself" crap on me. It just doesn't work that way. He has no reason to be like this right now. Yes, he lost his best friend, but that doesn't make him special. That doesn't take away that face that the rest of us are hurting just as much as he is. Newbie's such a little girl, more so now than he has been in the past few-

Wait.

What the hell did I just say to him?

Shit.

I said "I won't let it happen to you". I'm so screwed. Now the kid's probably thinking that I'm his new best friend and we'll have sleep overs and put our hair in curlers or whatever the hell it is that Newbie does when no one's watching. Shit shit shit. I just has to be me, doesn't it? Where did my hard shell go that would make me immune to this crap?

He nods after a while of silence, hygienically wiping his nose on his long sleeved shirt. Newbie's not even supposed to be here right now, with it being his day off and what-not. But, my guess is, that he couldn't stand to be at home with his baby boy and his wife since he is such an emotional wreck. I mean it. I've never seen Newbie so...broken. The light in the kid's eyes is gone, there is no laughter or goofy grins, just this person who is robotic with his actions and can't go more than thirty seconds on the dot without crying. This event, this stupid freaking car accident, had to go and destroy his life and the lives of everyone around him. Why on earth did this have to happen to us, of all people?

Us?

Dammit, I did it again.

"You okay there, Newbie?" What the hell is wrong with me?

Newbie looks up from the floor again. "As good as I'm gonna get."

He doesn't smile, but I can tell he wants to. But, if he does, I will have to brain him. He doesn't get to go around acting happy again after me having to talk him out of a breakdown. Like I said before, I, Percival Ulysses Cox, should never have to speak to anyone about these sort of personal matters.

"Go home, Newbie."

He obliges, getting up from his sitting position on the on-call room bed, straightening out his khakis. His movements are slow and a bit drunk-like, sort of like when I've had far too many shots of scotch out of Jenny's sippy cup. Just as he opens the door, he turns around. "Um...T-Thanks, Dr. Cox...for everything."

I nod, gritting my teeth as hard as possible. "You're...welcome."

Newbie gives me a small smile. And then he's gone.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Just so I don't get into any trouble, the sentence "It's a completely useless holiday filled with old ladies caroling around the neighborhood in order to get an orgasm that doesn't rely on double-A batteries..." is from the book _How to Talk to a Widower_ from Jonathan Tropper. It's not worded exactly the same or in the same context as the book, but I figure you should know that I didn't think it up. By the way, that book is absolutely hilarious and definitely one of my favorites. I recommend it to anyone who loves to laugh. It has the _Scrubs_ humor in it too, which makes it even better.

Sorry if Dr. Cox was out of character at all during this piece. But, in my defense, he just went to a funeral and I wouldn't expect him to be his completely normal self. Same goes for J.D., who was supposed to be depressed in this. I'm also pretty sure J.D. and Elliot's baby was a girl in season nine, but I switched it up to be a boy. Don't know why, just did it for funzies. But, obviously, after mentioning that the deaths were of J.D.'s best friend, Elliot's best friend, and then Dr. Cox's good friend, you can figure out who they were. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this random one-shot. I got inspired to write it by my shower this morning. Thanks for reading and remember that reviews are always appreciated!


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